


I. Am. Just

by eveesolo



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: 2019, Back from the writer's block dead, Gen, I know it's been like ten thousand years, MCiT, MGiT, Maybe - Freeform, Modern Character in Thedas, Modern Character in Thedas Challenge, Modern Girl in Thedas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:34:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23404570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eveesolo/pseuds/eveesolo
Summary: Remnants of my humanity had almost devoured me, if it weren’t for a dreamer. It was he who explained my name, my purpose. Comprehending my newborn existence with no direction has led me wandering aimlessly in the Fade. That is until I am called… from beyond the Veil. MCIT Challenge Prompt - Spirit Sunday.
Relationships: Original Character & Original Character, Solas & Original Character(s), Solas & Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 48





	I. Am. Just

Questions, too many of them fill my mind.

_ Where am I? _

_ Why am I here? _

_ How am I here? How is it possible? _

One comes after another, and another, and another, like a round of bullets, and none of them have an answer. No  _ realistic _ possible answer.

I can feel it consuming my very being.

My vision shifts between pitch black and a hazy green. With enough blinks, I can recognize I’m surrounded by a thick fog, so thick that I can’t see my own feet carrying my weightless body.

I can’t see my hands, but they are there, holding my aching head.

Pain normally doesn’t have a sound, it shouldn’t have a sound, but this one does, and it is loud.

It gets louder with every step I take, no clear thought can get through. The silence that fills the air seems to make it worse.

Endlessly I wander, with only this throbbing ache for company. For how long remains a mystery as time is but a concept. The focus is the emotions that come in waves. 

Frustration.

Irritation.

And… no action is being done about it. No punching, no kicking, not even a scream, as if I’ve forgotten how to perform these acts. With no proper release, the emotions continue to build without any assortment, without order.

_ Anarchy _ .

The word itself carries a disease of madness.

I can feel it spreading within me. My body that has been feeling weightless all this time, grows drastically heavy. The dread over takes, and something begins to shift and mold… a transformation.

“Justice!”

And just like that, my thoughts, my moments, every fiber of my being freezes.

_ Justice _ ?

“You represent protection.” Says a voice, a very familiar voice.

“You represent the right of those who cannot fend for themselves from cruelty. That is your purpose.”

Two hands are planted on both sides of my face. There is no temperature radiating off the touch, it’s just… there.

“That is your identity.”

With those convicting words, my world resets itself. I can think with a lucid state of mind, and the questions that plagued me, matters not.

However, the curious whispers don’t disappear completely. They retreat in the back of my mind, lingering and pacing, but whispers no longer have a hold on me.

Clarity returns my vision and I stare into a pair of stormy grey orbs, attached to them is pale skin, pointed ears, and sunk in cheeks. The individual has no hair.

“Solas?” I speak, but this is not my voice.

It is an echo, a reminisce of what I use to sound like.

“Yes.” The fictional elf pulls his hands away. “That is the name I go by.” One of his thin eyebrows begins to arch.

“If you’re here…”

_ I’m in trouble _ .

“I am here because of the spirits that you reside with.” He gestures to the ghastly balls of light floating about. “They were concerned for your wellbeing. And from where I stood, you were on the bridge of corruption.”

Solas places his hands behind him. “I am pleased to see you have regained your sense of purpose.”

That word again.  _ Purpose _ .

It resets my standing posture, and a wave of information floods my mind, as if reading a manual guide.

My purpose is to protect those who cannot protect themselves. Protect them from unlawful and immoral acts and guide those who wish to bring wrongdoers to the light. 

The thought is comforting, but… that can’t be my only purpose?

What about life and family? My sister? My father?

What of my roommate? My cat?

_ No, it’s not right. _

The headache returns, and I am on the ground. Solas drops down to a knee and gently whispers the same words as before, but they don’t have much of an impact as before.

“You are struggling with accepting who you are.” The elf frowns. “What troubles you?”

“I’m…” I struggle to get the words out. “I’m not justice. I’m… I’m human. A normal human– urgh—”

The pain grows, and deafens my ears. My emotions battle for dominance, I can barely hear Solas’ guiding words. Sorting out each feeling ends up in disorder, one is more confusing then the next. The only one that makes sense to me is… justness.

I hon in on that feeling and that feeling alone. The pain subsides once again. 

I remain on the ground, and “mediate” on my sense of “purpose,” with Solas sitting in front of me _._ After an eternity of silence, he speaks.

“You are not human.” His hands are in his lap as he leans in, curiously.

I don’t believe him, not until I glance down at my body, or rather where my body should be. There is no solid present, but there is a present. And it's as real to me as Solas is… which is questionable. He shouldn’t exist (and yet here we are.) 

“I am— was.” I choose my wording. No pain, I suppose it’s a step in the right direction.

“Was?” He repeats, in study. “You sound very certain of yourself.”

I tell of my upbringing and the events that accrued up until the last thing I remember, which was going to sleep for the evening. At certain parts, the headache would come back. I’m forced to take breaks.

Luckily, Solas is a patient individual and waited for my episodes to be over before pressing me to continue.

From then, I recite the rest of my life with emotional detachment.

“Have you collided with any departed souls recently?” He asks at the very end.

I’m appalled by the question.

“No.” My voice booms.

The wisps that have been lingering around us scattered, as if to hide. The headache comes back with vengeance and begins throbbing once more. No matter how often it comes, I can’t ever seem to gain a tolerance for it.

“Watch your tone.” He says. It’s more of a warning than a scolding.

I’ve taken deep breath motion. I do not feel oxygen filling my lungs, but moving my chest is smoothing. However, I still am left irritated. Did he not believe in anything I’ve been saying up until this point? Is he truly convinced that I am a spirit that simply lost their marble.

_ Screw him _ .

I close my eyes, on instinct, and cradle my head as the ache becomes unbearable.

“Why am I not allowed to be angry?” I frown, if I’m even capable of doing so.

Solas wrinkles his face. “It is not against your nature to… express displeasure, but anger itself is.”

My eyes squint, and so he continues.

“You are the embodiment of justice. Any thoughts, let alone emotions, that are not equivalent to your existence will be… difficult to comprehend. It can drive you to a state of madness.”

Denying your purpose, denying your duty, can lead to corruption.

And with corruptness, you become a demon. Assuming that’s how I remember how this world law of nature works.

“I have wandered the Fade for years, and never have I come across something like you. Never have I heard of a deported soul becoming a spirit as yourself. However… perhaps I should not be surprised. I witnessed a circumstance of a spirit becoming human.” Solas says. His expression grows sour at the mention.

Within a blink, he regains his posture. Solas shoulders are pressed back, and his neck straightens.

“Regardless of who you were in your previous life, this is who you are now. It is your will to accept this or not. I can offer guidance, but self-discipline falls on you.”

Silence lingers between us.

Only does he stand up do I say something. I accept his offer with bitterness.

Anything for the headaches to stop.

* * *

With Solas’  _ guidance _ , I’ve adapted in locking away my emotions. The same emotions that made me  _ human _ , but they conflict with my new existence. It has made things easier to embrace my new righteous self-worth.

Small talk happens in-between our lessons, or attempts at it. I was not interested in listening to Solas more than necessary.

As he said before, I can express displeasure. Vaguely do I remember from my human life his plan to tear down the Veil. The destruction that will unleash onto Thedas… millions of innocents lives perishing. By his hand.

The memory carries over as an unjustifiable concept. Something my being wishes to vanquish from this world.

However, I do not act.

Solas that is in my presence does not match this concept I understand. He is an enlightened soul, who wishes to see me live.

But… there will be a day he would be the thing I truly hate.

I oppose every advancement he makes to establish a  _ friendship _ . That is until he began to tell me about the world beyond the Veil. Any mention of Thedas lore has my immediate attention. I get immersed with each historical event he shares. The Alamarri warrior Hafter uniting tribes in Ferelden to fight against the darkspawn. Veterans who know only of war come together to call themselves the Grey Wardens, and swear that they would accept anyone to join their cause against the first Blight. No matter their race or background, without distinction.

In this session, however, does not conclude with a story.

“You have taken an interest towards the world beyond the Veil.”

“I have, and what of it.”

He frowns. “You must avoid crossing the Veil.”

“Why is that?” I decide to ask him.

“In your current state, I fear there will be consequences. A spirit can maintain their form and mind, if they crossover of their own will. If what you say is true, any familiar sensations might trigger your memories of your past life. And as we are aware, any emotion that is against your nature—”

“I understand your concern.” I grumble.

I do not need his repetition or imaginative play in his lessons, I’m no toddler. 

“It would… not be wise to seek out any human familiarity.” Solas gathers himself. “It is time for me to wake up. Until next time, Justice,” and in a blink of an eye, he vanishes.

Left alone with my thoughts, I wander the Fade to consult them.

No, wandering isn’t right anymore. It’s a patrol. A sense of duty is what motivates me to move. Not once did I stop for anything.

Expect… for an odd sensation.

A thought with a voice.

_ Life _ .

And it’s calling out to me.

I follow without question.

The Fade, a barren wasteland of rocks and fog, slowly changes landscape to a dessert with heavy winds. I approach a ruin. I climb the stairs, and the calling gets louder, and clearer. A plea.

Reaching the top, the air rises from the ground, like heat waves. The light from the sky intensifies.

As I reach my hand out behind this mirage, sparks trickle down the back of my neck. Images flash through before my eyes, like a movie reel. Each shows a different moment in time, and from different points of views.

It’s overwhelming, but I focus one the sensation that was relative to me.

People are in the middle of a dessert in midday, in an old dusty ruin much like the one I’m standing in. They are dressed in familiar grey and blue uniforms, each bear a symbol of a two head griffin.

Grey Wardens.

But something is wrong. They are accompanied by shades, demons. I watch as the Warden mages attach themselves to their demons by a ritual.

“No!” But my voice cannot carry.

Among them, only one sees the wrong in what their comrades were doing.

I focus on the likeness of that warden mage. The individual is very simple and boring looking, brown hair and eyes, but I saw the determination reflecting in those tiny orbs, the determination of wanting to end this.

But with the next flash, I see them lying on the ground, with a wound across their stomach and their mouth coughing blood. I can hear and feel their thoughts.

The Wardens have been tricked.

Their desire to redeem brother-in-arms, right their wrongs, and bring the evil individual to pay for what they have done.

To bring them to  _ justice _ .

That all it takes to have me cross the Veil.

* * *

Unlike the Fade, there is a sense of containment, the same sense of standing in a room in the dark. It's pitch black, and there is another sharing the space. They cannot be physically seen or touched, but their essence is intertwined with my spirit.

Suddenly, I feel.

I feel pain cross my stomach, and the blood bleeding out of me. My vision fluctuates between darkness and light.

One of the first lessons Solas taught me was the Fade will shift according to a being’s will, with a mere thought. And so I take it into practice.

I imagine the pain to be gone. I imagine patching up whatever is making me bleed.

A sense of alarm rattles my brain. Is this me? Why am I feeling anxious?

It is then I knew, it’s the essence feeling this. This panic rises as the pain begins to reside.

“I am only here to help.” I feel myself stabilizing.

No, I feel him stabilizing.

_ Him _ ?

I see. This essence is male. He questions my intrusion, though grateful for the help.

“You called out to me, and so here I am. I can continue to be of help, only until those who have wronged you and your brothers have come to face the light of judgement.”

A sense of fulfillment courses through me as a pact begins to form. I would grant him my strength for the sole purpose of hunting down those who mistreated the Grey Wardens. My purpose and his have merged, along with our essences, our beings.

The sense of us becoming one.

My vision is filled with blinding light, sunlight.

“There is one still alive!”

I find myself leaning against a hard surface. I’m in an enclosed space, with no roof over my head. The walls are made of stone. There are straws of hay scattered everywhere, along with particles of dust, mostly from the sand the Western Approach. It feels more of a nest than a tower.

Dead bodies are spread across the dusty ground. They wear the grey and blue uniforms, ping of sadness tugs at the heart.

“Are you alright?!” A voice rings through my ears.

A tall muscular man with grey skin comes into view. At the base of his forehead are horns, and they curl and fold back like hair. His actual hair is black, and he stares at me with the piercing blue eyes.

As I stare right back, he frowns. “It seems you have taken in a resident.”

Before the stranger can say anymore someone calls out to him.

“Inquisitor!”

Three individuals approach us. One is a dwarf, with dark strawberry blonde hair. Loosely tied back, and his crooked nose is bruised with freshly opened cuts. Piercings along his right ear have a shine to them, reflecting the light in the sky. His shirt red as the desert sand and it is wide open to expose his dark blonde hairy chest.

The other is the same as the inquisitor, tall and grey skin. He’s much more muscular and his horns extend outward, like a raging bull. With his shirtless appearance, he represents much more of a Minotaur from the myths than a Qunari.

The third companion, I know all too well.

“Solas?” My voice is dry and raspy, no his voice… our voice comes out barely auditable, or so we think.

The inquisitor looks back at his elven comrade. “A friend of yours?”

The intellectual elf takes a moment to observe me and squints. “No. I am afraid I have never met him before.”

“Perhaps his friend then?” The Inquisitor suggests. “He’s possessed.”

This news seems to alarm him. “You have taken in a spirit?” Though his posture is calm and collected, his eyes appear that they want to kill me. A shiver travels down my spine.

“A spirit of Justice,” I begin to sit up slowly.

A look of recollection comes across his face, but shortly after Solas glares. “Justice?”

The muscles in my arms and legs stretch on their own, and I rub the crank out of my neck. “Yes, or so I’m able to understand.” The voice is not mine, it’s much deeper sounding. This belongs to mage I’m sharing a soul with.

“And… are they well?”

The mage does not answer, even after seconds have passed. Is he… waiting on me? I suppose since the question is directed at me.

A warm sensation wraps around me, like a blanket of cautious emotions. Mostly concerned, just like Solas is expressing. I nuzzle my own thoughts of consent.

The nameless mage sighs, a hand over his heart. “Yes, she’s doing very well.”

“She?” Solas repeats with one of his eyebrows rising.

“ _ It _ doesn’t feel quite right for me to say.” The Grey Warden confirms. “Not about Justice.”

A spring of joy engulfs me, engulfs us. It makes the heart swell and the Grey Warden chuckle in response. “She’s in agreement.”

Solas, the Inquisitor, and the two other men who have been watching the conversation in silence get acquainted with nameless mage. I pull myself back and take a moment to realize what just happened.

For the first time since being a spirit, I was able to express happiness, without consequences, without a headache. I haven’t felt this much joy since…

That is when all my memories of my past life come to the surface. Flashes of all moments of when I felt truly happy come to light, the smiles, and the laughs.

I can feel the Grey Warden pause in mid-talk with the Inquisitor and blink.

“I… Solas is it?” He asks.

The elf nods.

“Justice is no normal spirit is she?”

A hint of a smile appears on Solas’ face. “No, no she is not.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hi, yes. I have risen from the writer's block dead.
> 
> It's been a while since I've posted ANYTHING new. Life has been keeping me very busy. I've written some things between then and now, but my mentality was "Nope, don't post it. Writing is shit." So, I am out of that state of mind for the time being, and reviewing all my works. Hope you have fun reading this, and please stay safe out there!


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